


We'll Rule Together

by writingramblr



Category: Alexander (2004), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alexander Percival Graves, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Movie Fusion, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Credence Barebone Gets a Hug, Explicit Sexual Content, Gratuitous Smut, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Rimming, Unsafe Sex, colin's dick is distracting, graves is such a flirt, graves' shushing during sex, lots of smut, make it gay, mild salad tossing, powerbottom!Graves, the great, the queen is a bitch here ok im sorry, this is ancient greece tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 11:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9122590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Alexander makes the rapid acquaintance of a fragile creature who threatens to steal his heart.Little does he know, things are not as they seem.[http://mickynenash.tumblr.com/post/154737051779]





	

**Author's Note:**

> hey its me again here with some more EXCUSES FOR PORN. oops.

 

                                                   

 

* * *

 

 

The sun had long since begun to set, bleeding orange and reds over the horizon as Alexander Percival Graves made his way to his private gardens, the one place he could escape them all; the council, his mother and father, any and all of those who only demanded his obedience. He was weary of it all, and though he knew someday he would need to be strong for them, need to be the model son they expected of him, not yet, not today.

A moment, that was all he wanted. Just a spare moment of peace, and that was what the gardens provided. Silence and sweet scents of roses and lilies, among many other flowers he could not name. The weeping willow that hung over the small pond was one of his favorite places to sit, to rest under and let the world fall away. He took up residence at the base of the tree, and dipped his feet into the cool waters, letting the small colorful fish dart around his toes, keeping still as he could.

Smiling down at them, he couldn’t help talking to them, for they could not speak back, and it was always preferable. “You have no idea what sort of nonsense surrounds you. All you know is this place. How I envy you.”  
There was a rustling of leaves, and he looked up to find someone had followed him, or accidentally stumbled into his sanctuary, either way, he pulled back suddenly from the water, and got to his feet, somewhat startled. 

“Who’s there?”

If his mother had followed him to continue bemoaning the fact he was delaying the arranged marriage with some foreign princess, he might just push her into the water, and let his father murder him for such disobedience.

“Your highness… I apologize, I had no idea you were here…”

The branches and flower bushes parted to reveal neither his mother nor father, nor anyone he’d ever seen before. It was a steward, or a water boy, one from the new collection of servants, and he was captivating, while being too dangerous to look at too long, much like the burn of the setting sun. Graves relaxed his defensive stance, and leaned against the trunk of the tree, hoping to put the boy at ease,

“Don’t apologize. Just promise you won’t tell anyone where you saw me, if my parents should ask… it can be our little secret… hmm?”

The boy nodded fervently, and moved to bow, long dark curls sliding over his shoulders, exposing the pale skin of his neck and back.

“I’ll not disturb you any further your highness, forgive me.”

He began to walk away, trying to retreat the way he’d come in, and Graves stepped closer, crossing over the pathway through the pond easily,

“Wait. What’s your name? I don’t believe we’ve been acquainted. You know who I am, but I don’t know you. I feel at a disadvantage.”

He couldn’t help the smile that quirked his lips, and as he watched, the boy halted, turning to face him again, with a touch of pink in his cheeks, almost like the color streaking the skies above them as the sun continued to enter its slumber.

“Credence.”

Graves held out his hand, and the boy stared at it a moment, before taking it between his own, and lifting it to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

* * *

“Uh, that’s not quite what I meant for you… Credence… that’s all? No last name for you?”

 

The boy shook his head, and Graves noted how long he let their hands linger, before he dropped his own, and he took the moment to eye the boy a bit. He was dressed in the simple ivory cotton shifts most of the servants wore, with no embellishments of gold or silver or bronze, not like the royal family tended to choose to mark their status. It seemed he was only able to procure a simply waisted tunic, and therefore had no protection from the sun on his back or shoulders were he needed outside. So he didn’t do the normal duties a servant did, judging by the pallor of his skin. “What is your destination? Cutting through the gardens as you were?”

The boy, Credence, looked as if he didn’t want to meet his eye,

“I was merely coming outside for a breath of fresh air. It became a bit stifling inside the house.”

He glanced up at Graves, as if unsure he could say such a thing, before his gaze skittered away again. Graves couldn’t help laughing,

“It can be a bit, especially if my father has been smoking. I don’t hold it against you. If you promise to be quiet, you may linger, I was just about to try and take a moments rest before I must return to dinner.”

Credence was nodding, and murmured,

“I can be as quiet as you command your highness.”

Graves smiled, earnest, and simply charmed by the sweet and somewhat naive manner of the boy,

“Excellent. Well, enjoy the roses.”

He turned away to move back over to the willow, when he heard the boy draw in a shuddering gasp,

“Your highness, you don’t want… my company?”

Graves was already sitting down, pressing his back once more to the soft moss edging around the tree trunk when he looked over at Credence, who looked suddenly lost, hands pressing together in front of his bare chest, eyes locked to his. “I hardly think I need assistance to sleep, unless you propose to sing for me? Do you know any Greek lullabies?”

Cheeks still red, Credence shook his head,

“No. I’m afraid not your highness.”

Graves plucked up a fallen willow strand, twirling it between his fingers thoughtfully,

“Do you sing? It could be anything, as long as it’s soft.”

Slowly, like molasses in winter, Credence crept closer, before he was close enough to kneel at Graves’ side, an arms length away,

“I could try for you, your highness.”

Graves smiled, reassuring as he could be,

“No need to be afraid. I’m sure you sound lovely. Whenever you’re ready.”

He let his eyes fall shut, leaning his head back against the moss as well, before letting his feet fall back down into the pond, instantly cooling and relaxing him further.

* * *

Credence could scarcely feel the ground beneath his feet, he’d never been so close to the Prince, and unable to ask for his help, which he desperately needed. Finding a way to get to a place to find a moments peace, to have escaped the pleasure slaves barracks unscathed was a sheer miracle in and of itself, but to accidentally run into the Prince, his new assignment, was unnerving. He’d been commissioned by the Queen herself, told to make certain that the Prince was focused enough to finally consider getting himself a future Queen, and cease the pointless moping and distractions.  
Credence didn’t quite understand it all, but the heart of the matter was that he was to do whatever the Prince wished, as long as it led to him cooperating with his parents. 

Now, as he was, he did not know how to begin to confess such a thing, and considering the Prince had no idea who he was, made it far worse. Credence could do things, many things to please a man, but when it came to the innocent request as singing him to sleep, that he balked at. He tried, he really did, but his voice was out of tune, and the songs he knew were merely hymns he remembered from a childhood spent steeped in religion. He knew, if his mother were alive and could see him then, she would have cursed the ground he walked on.

The Prince opened his eyes to look over at him with a smile that seemed more amused than pleased, and Credence tried not to flinch, but he was braced for a slap, verbal or physical.  
It was common enough.   
Many of those he’d served enjoyed beating servants or pleasure slaves, and insisted it heightened their experience. Credence couldn’t say there was anything about it that brought him any sort of satisfaction, but then again, it wasn’t about him, and it never would be. 

“You might want to stick to… whatever it is you do, unless you are a new entertainer, then, just warn me, and I’ll get wax for my ears.”

The Prince was insulting him, but kindly, and he winked at the last words, throwing Credence for a loop. He wasn’t angry? He wouldn’t be punished?

“I’m sorry your Highness, it’s just not my usual fare.”

The Prince sat up and leaned on his elbow, eyeing Credence so intently he swore his gaze could burn through him.

“I, uh, work in the…”

He didn’t want to lie, that would certainly be worthy of a beating, but he wasn’t sure how to go about revealing his true purpose.

“You’re quite beautiful, you know that? For a young man. It’s almost like they carved you out of the same marble as one of the gods.”

The Prince was reaching over to drag a hand over his bare arm, and goose bumps erupted over his skin, as Credence fought the urge to shiver.

“Th-thank you.”

Maybe he could avoid answering the question if the Prince kept that sort of thing up.

“How long do you think there is until dinner? I don’t think I can sleep with you here, watching me.”

The Prince licked his lips and winked again, fingers dancing down to graze the back of Credence’s hand, relaxed on the moss that blanketed beneath him, and he could only shrug,

“Half hour perhaps? Until the sky is completely dark, then they ring the bells.”

The Prince chuckled,

“I think I know that. I wonder, am I keeping you from anything? Do you serve wine, or pour mead?” Credence fought to control his breathing as the Prince picked his hand up to turn it over, tracing mindless shapes on his palm with a finger.

“N-no your highness. I don’t work with the kitchen.”

The Prince nodded,

“Of course not. Your hands are too smooth for that. You’ve probably only stoked a fire, never been too close to one.”

Credence swallowed thickly and wondered if he could use his other hand to touch the Prince, or if he would be stopped. He tried it, tentatively shifting closer so that he could brush his fingers through the man’s golden locks, and he bit his lip, preparing to be hit, stopped, or otherwise chastened, but it never came. Instead, the Prince inhaled sharply and squeezed Credence’s other hand,

“You’re one of them, aren’t you?”

Credence froze, and his eyes darted to the Prince’s, almost getting lost in the dark depths,

“What?”

The Prince smirked,

“A nymph. Water sprite. You are, aren’t you?”

Credence went back and forth in his mind, and before he could stop himself he was nodding.

“Yes.”

The Prince tugged sharply on his hand and threw him off balance, leading to him sprawling over the man, hovering above him, his dark hair like a curtain over his face.

“Did Zeus send you? An early birthday present?”

Credence was no longer certain how much more he wanted to lie, he’d already made a horrible mistake by not admitting what his true purpose was, and so he merely shrugged, trying to remain ambivalent.

“Oh, it’s a mystery is it? Or is it to be a secret? I like those.”

The Prince was touching him, even as Credence tried to keep his full body weight off the man, his hands were framing on his hips, the side of his waist, bracketing him in place,

“Your highness, I don’t think that…”

The Prince smirked,

“What, are you afraid someone might see? This is my secret sanctuary; you fell in here by design. Don’t worry so much. It might give you premature wrinkles.”

Credence smiled, despite himself,

“I know that, but I just don’t know if we have enough time…”

The Prince was biting his lip now,

“Time for what? You’re rather presumptuous aren’t you Credence. Did you think I wanted to _have_ you before dinner? Beside the pond?” 

With a sudden and swift show of strength, Credence was thrown on his back against the soft grass and the Prince loomed over him now, legs braced on his own, halting all attempts of movement. A slight frission of heat ran down his spine at the very idea, at the words the man had used, but he didn’t break his gaze, didn’t falter.

“I don’t know your highness… I am here to do whatever you want.”

The Prince cocked a golden brow at that, and Credence noted how both of his brows were several shades darker than the blond of his hair,

“Whatever I want… oh now that is a tempting offer. But I suspect it wouldn’t do to appear at dinner with a taste of you lingering, I’d be spoiled for the food. Come to me after, before the night can be called half over, and we will see about that.”

The Prince was moving, up, and off, and away, standing beside him, yet holding out a hand to help Credence to his feet, which he took gratefully, noting how strong the man’s grip was, and the way his eyes lingered, before he began to walk away, leaving him behind in the hidden garden.  


* * *

Graves wasn’t quite sure where the glorious creature had come from, but he more than knew he wanted him. Just how and how much, he wasn’t sure, but the boy was more than completely delicious. He’d been prepared for Graves to do… anything to him? Dinner couldn’t be over fast enough for him to return to his private chambers and take care of a more than pressing matter, things to be grateful for that day included spacious and over-sized silk robes, that hid the almost painful arousal he’d been harboring since leaving the gardens.

Divesting himself of his robe, he moved over to the balcony where he could overlook the gardens, and pretend he had done more with Credence, imagined kissing those perfect pink lips, feeling the boy move beneath him, hear his moans as he was brought the same delirious pleasure as he was experiencing. With a hand dragging slowly down his chest and then reaching to curl his fingers around his achingly hard length, he barely needed to do much more.  
It didn’t take long before he was thrusting with purpose into his fist, reaching completion to make a mess of the marble railing and his hand. 

He fought to catch his breath and returned inside to wipe his hand off on a damp rag by the water pitcher. It was there for only that purpose, and he suspected his regular servants knew by now. The Prince touched himself more than he allowed any whores or lovers to do, and he probably always would. The idea of never marrying, just to spite his mother was a very strong urge. He smirked to himself just before he heard a knock on the door, and he froze, momentarily panicked. Could it be?

Had the beautiful young man come to see him?

The thought that he should throw something on, for modesty’s sake was a fleeting one, for his appearance would only intimidate new servants and perhaps earn a cluck of the tongue from his mother, so he simply went to answer the door as he was, naked as a forest nymph should be. A broad smile was breaking over his face before he could stop himself, at the sight of the dark haired and pale skinned boy,

“Credence. Please, come in.”

The boy’s gaze predictably, was locked on his lower waist, and Graves fought the urge to cock a hip to distract him further, so he merely stepped back, moving the carrot on the stick, as it were, and Credence followed. Closing the door behind him, Graves noted that he seemed to be a little more skittish than he’d been, perhaps he’d not had a chance to dine himself?

“Would you like something to eat? I have fruit, cheese, and wine of course.”

Credence jumped slightly, as if he’d been struck, and Graves’ brows met in concern on his forehead,

“What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Credence nodded almost immediately, eyes darting up to meet his,

“Oh yes, your highness. I’m sorry I was a little distracted…”

Graves smirked,

“It’s quite all right. You flatter me. If we’re still playing it like, ‘ _whatever I want,_ ’ most certainly, I’m intrigued to see what you hide beneath that servant’s cotton you wear.” 

He stepped closer, almost magnetically drawn to the boy, and he noticed the flush still coloring Credence’s cheeks,

“Oh. Yes of course. Whatever you want.”

Graves was near enough to put a hand on him, and he did, one at his shoulder, and the other to his hip, fingers dipping below his belt, feeling his the sharp lines of his ribs as he drew in his breath, “I should think it’s obvious. I want _you_ .”   
Credence wasn’t quite meeting his gaze, until that moment, and his lips parted as he gasped, 

“You do?”

Graves nodded, lifting the hand from his shoulder to stroke up his neck and across his cheek,

“Oh yes. Very much so. But I don’t wish to offend the gods… so you’ll tell me to stop if I do anything you don’t want, or like, yes?”

Credence was nodding, and Graves smirked,

“I do hope you won’t have to.”

He cupped the boy’s face against his palm, and leaned into capture his lips in a kiss, to which the boy opened his mouth almost at once, and when Graves darted his tongue out to taste of him, it was like what he imagined gods drank, the sweetest ambrosia.

Perhaps the boy had dined after all, and was just thirsty for a warm touch. That, Graves could gladly provide in spades. As he kissed him, so deeply and a bit rougher than perhaps he was used to, but with a mouth like that, he was almost begging for it, Graves began to undo the boy’s belt, until the leather was falling to the floor, followed by the slither of cotton down his legs.

“Mmm, perfect.”

Graves broke the kiss to drink in the sight of the body before him, and he was incredibly pleased with what he found. He might even have to insist on the boy having him first, instead of what he’d originally planned for, bending the supple body over the side of his bed and driving him into the soft mattress until he begged to come.

“Your Highness, I hardly think I’m that.”

Graves moved his hand down to grip firmly, not painfully so, not yet, at Credence’s neck and he shook his head, “You are as I say you are. Don’t fight me on this. Now, come, I’m dying to have a real taste of you.”

* * *

  
  
Credence was dying; surely, that was how it felt to be killed with such incredible pleasures and impossible delights of carnality. He’d never felt anything like he did as the Prince had pushed him onto his bed, and then knelt for him, to put his mouth on his cock. Informed in a curt manner upon his first encounter with anyone, that yes, he was indeed blessed by the gods, able to provide ample satisfaction for ladies and men alike, depending on what they preferred, to then be granted the first climax, before the Prince he was supposed to be servicing, well, it more than took his breath away. 

“You are divine, you know that? I think I could learn to like doing this, if it was for you.”

The Prince had crawled up beside him, one hand bracing himself up, so he could lean down and ravage Credence’s mouth, the other still teasing his cock, nearly blurring the line between pain and pleasure, so over sensitized was he from his release.

“Please, your highness, let me take care of you.”

The words were automatic, required of his position, and the Prince merely smiled,

“You take a moment, recover. I already had one myself before you arrived, I’ll manage for a little while.”

With slow and deep kisses, and the occasional brush of a hand over his chest, where Credence noticed his usually relaxed and soft nipples had hardened, he was well on his way to becoming aroused again, and even still, he reached out, somewhat blindly to try and feel if the Prince was indeed enjoying himself. A groan escaped the Prince’s throat when his hands made contact with the man’s cock, and he could feel how slick the head was from his arousal.

“Turn over.”

The Prince was whispering, so Credence obeyed, and as he lay with his face rubbing against the soft silk of the sheets, he hoped, he prayed, that the man would not hurt him. Some clients enjoyed that more than the actual coupling, and he always found himself biting back tears on those occasions, usually taking longer and longer baths than usual until he had healed.

When two hands met at the center of his lower back, he couldn’t help jumping slightly, before the fingers kneaded his skin, and moved down to grip his ass, pulling apart the cheeks to bare his hole to view. But instead of the usual pain of thoughtless probing, he felt the man move behind him to press something wet and warm to that hidden place, and when he heard the similar noise to a kiss, he realized with a start that the Prince was licking him.

It was an almost impossible thing to describe, but it was not unpleasant, in fact, the longer the man did it, the harder he found himself rutting against the sheets, not even caring about the mess his leaking cock was likely making. When the wet length of the Prince’s tongue moved past his taint and was flicking against the sensitive skin of his sack, Credence thought he might be able to come from that, without even needing a hand on him directly. He opened his mouth to warn, to beg, to say anything that would warn the man, but he stopped almost instantly, and the hands left his body. Credence fought the urge to groan in frustration, but he had to remember, he was not in charge, he was merely a tool.  
It didn’t stop him from jumping again when a hand made contact with his ass, now just a finger, slicked with what he guessed was oil, pressed against his hole, and slid inside easily, pumping in and out slowly, but with purpose. 

“You all right down there?”

The Prince had leaned down to press a kiss to the side of his neck, lips grazing just below his ear, and Credence nodded, nearly frantic,

“Yes, yes, please don’t stop.”

He realized he hadn’t used the man’s proper title a moment later, when the second finger entered him, but he supposed maybe it didn’t matter.  
When the man worked up to a third finger inside him, though the pain was starting to overwhelm the pleasure, he knew it would be good, once the Prince was inside him, and moving, drawing his own pleasure from Credence, giving him purpose. 

“Gods, you’re so tight.”

The exact moment when the Prince had removed his fingers and replaced it with his cock blurred together in his mind, and all Credence focused on was when the head of it brushed against the place inside him that drew stars across his vision, making his mouth fall slack, unable to form words but for how good it felt. The Prince had his hands on Credence’s hips again, and it helped his rhythm, kept the steady pulsing of intoxication going with every movement, and he wondered how long the man would last like that, if he was pleased, if he was to praise him again.

“Credence, I want to see you, I’m going to move you.”

Before he could protest, the Prince was pulling out of him all the way, making him feel strangely bereft, and the Prince’s strong hands were still grasping his body, forcing him to turn, so that Credence could no longer gain friction against the bed for his cock, and he instead could see how breathtaking the man looked, golden hair clinging to his face with sweat, and a giddy sort of smile on his lips.

“Good boy.”

The Prince pressed back inside of him slowly, and let his head fall back when he’d bottomed out, allowing Credence to see true unbridled beauty as he reveled in the sensation.  
He almost forgot about himself for a moment, before the Prince brought a hand down to stroke over his cock, now curved against his stomach, drooling onto his skin in clearish strands. 

“Is this… do you…?”

He wasn’t sure what he was asking, but the Prince groaned, and moved just a touch faster, doing the same with his hand, and every time his thumb rubbed across the head of Credence’s cock, at the same time as the place inside him was stroked, he swore it was enough to break him, to rip him over that edge.

“Come for me.”

The Prince was saying, words finding Credence through a hazy delirium of pleasure, and he just nodded, feeling like he might explode in a million different directions, as he shifted his hips mindlessly, chasing the feeling, and coming all over his chest and the man’s hand.  
It wasn’t long after that the Prince stilled his own body, and simply held onto Credence’s hips as if for dear life, his face contorted with concentration before being overwhelmed with bliss.   
The Prince didn’t wince as he pulled out of Credence, but he did hiss low under his breath, and click his tongue slightly before speaking, 

“You look so good like this. Covered in the true nectar of the gods.”

He was smirking, and Credence was too exhausted to be embarrassed.  
He didn’t want to move, even though his position wouldn’t be comfortable forever, but when he felt the same lips and tongue on him again, he arched his back and let out a shuddering gasp. 

“What are you doing?”

Credence could barely muster the strength to look down at himself, but he could see the Prince kneeling at his feet again, dark eyes playful.  He moved away only a moment to answer,

“Cleaning you up.”

* * *

  
  
Credence clearly was anything but inexperienced, but as Graves continued to work him over, unwilling to let him stop for more than enough time to recover for another round, he wondered, what kind of lovers he had in the past. Rather neglectful ones or perhaps purely selfish types. 

He wasn’t about to pretend he believed that the boy was really a gift from the gods, or sprites, or anything so fanciful, but he was most definitely not anyone he could ever recall seeing around the palace. How could he have resisted so long if he had been?  
Graves was certain if he’d seen the boy at a meal, standing in the corner preparing to serve or retrieve dishes, that he’d have wanted him in the nearest dark alcove they could find, with his mouth over his, for more than kisses than to stifle the noises he was sure he could make. 

Remarkably he’d been fairly quiet so far, even when coming, or being fucked, and Graves was more than a little irked, and desperate to find a way to get him to sing that he was being thoroughly fulfilled. He dragged a hand over the boy’s chest, and drew mindless shapes in the white lines of his own release that marred his skin, wondering just how long he could delay cleaning him off. Or if he could use his mouth there as well.

“What do you want next, your highness?” the boy asked, voice shaky but still eager to please.

Graves glanced up at the boy, who was watching him with an open expression, and a touch of desire still darkening his eyes.

He smirked,

“I’m surprised you’re ready again so soon… would you like a turn on me? Do you think you’d enjoy that?”

Credence’s eyes widened,

“You mean… what you just did, but I would do to you?”

Graves nodded,

“Of course. It’s not unheard of, is it now? Someone willing to receive you?”

Credence shook his head,

“Never me your highness.”

Graves sighed,

“More’s the pity for them. Well no matter, scoot up on the bed, and I’ll take care of that.”

So he did clean the boy off with his tongue, and he made sure to worry Credence’s pale pink nipples with his teeth as he made his way across his chest, lapping up every drop of his milky seed. By the time the boy was fully hard again, Graves was more than aching to feel that perfectly gorgeous cock inside of him. It took only a few moments for him to work himself up, slick the boy’s cock with oil, and move straddle him, locking eyes with Credence as he sunk down over it.

“Oh my gods… it feels…”

Indiscernible, Graves imagined, and Credence’s head was falling back, eyes closing to allow dark lashes to graze over his flushed cheeks, as his white uneven teeth worried his bottom lip. Graves would much prefer to do that, he thought to himself, so he did, leaning forward to capture the boy’s lips in a fierce kiss, the angle change doing wonders to ramp up his arousal again, and he tightened around Credence’s cock, ripping a gasp from his throat, which he gladly took into the kiss. He suspected the boy wouldn’t last long as he was, devastated by the pleasure racking his body, and the hot warmth enveloping his cock.

“Touch me.” he murmured to the boy, leaving his lips to kiss a line down his neck, suckling skin here, biting there, marrying the perfect pale canvas to show his adoration, to leave his mark.

“Yes, yes, I can’t hold on much…”

“Shh-hh, I know, just let go whenever you’re ready.”

Credence gave a feeble thrust of his hips and then was bracing his hands on Graves’ shoulders, short nails digging into his skin, probably leaving marks of their own, and he couldn’t resist biting the junction of his neck and collarbone, just enough to make an impression.  
The gasps and whimpers that the boy let out were more than enough to drive Graves past his own threshold, and he came a few moments after, cock untouched and spurting fluid onto Credence’s stomach, once against making a mess of his pale skin. 

After that time, Graves was certain he would need more than a few moments to truly recover, so before sleep could claim him, he left the boy in the bed and retrieved the damp washcloth to clean him, and himself, before climbing back atop the mussed sheets, and laying his head on the nearest pillow. The boy’s body was slight and slim, but he was definitely taller than Graves, even as he was lying flat, and Graves couldn’t help the thrill that ran through him at the image of the two of them going anywhere, together, how people would talk.

The differences in appearance, being that he was a man with a younger man, and how his mother would be furious if she knew he was having such radical thoughts about someone who would not make for an advantageous marriage. Graves let one of his arms fall about the boy’s waist, and he fought the urge to laugh when the boy shifted back, pressing his body against Graves’ front, and the warmth was so great, no blankets or covers were needed for them in the night.  


* * *

  
The morning dawned, and Credence startled awake at the first touch of lips to his skin, and he remembered where he was. Not lying on the cold floor of the stables, or the hard slats of the cots of the slaves quarters, but in a bed, with the Prince.   
Oh.   
For a moment he had forgotten he was continuing a lie which he’d been hired to encourage. 

“I’m so glad you’re up. I was starting to wonder if I should take care of myself, but that would be rude, right next to you, with such beauty in my bed, it would be a shame to waste it.” The Prince was saying, voice low, and almost a rumble in his ear.

Hands were trailing over his waist, sliding down the curves of his hips and to the front of his body, fingers wrapped around his cock, stroking him once, twice, and three times, bringing him to a reluctant full hardness, and Credence let out a groan.

“Your highness, shouldn’t you be heading to breakfast? I must get back…”

All words died on his tongue as the Prince urged him onto his back, and kissed down the length of his body, a wink sent cheerily his way, as the royal’s own tongue ended up sliding over his shaft, and lips that had kissed his wrapped around the head of his cock.  
Again the Prince insisted on treating him?   
He could not understand it. 

“This shall be my breakfast today. Although I do have some true business to attend to, promise me, you’ll come find me in the garden again?”

The Prince was saying, having pulled away just enough to ensure Credence was paying attention, and so he nodded, eagerly, obedient always.

“Good boy. I look forward to it. The one bright spot in my day shall be having you, perhaps upon the moss, or against the tree.”

Credence let his head fall back against the cushions and his hands fisted in the silk sheets as the Prince once again took him into his mouth, and his moans vibrated over his skin, almost forcing his orgasm to speed through him, taking him by surprise, and causing him to whisper curses mingled with ‘ _your highness.’_ _  
_ The Prince sat up slightly, wiping a hand over the back of his mouth, lips obscenely pink and shining with wetness even still, 

“How about a good morning kiss?”

Credence was gaping at him, surely he couldn’t be serious?  
His wicked smile told Credence that he was, entirely.   
Large hands grasped the sides of his face and the back of his neck, dragging him down, chests crashing together just after their lips met, and Credence found himself moaning into the kiss.   
The Prince tasted of the wine they’d shared and the bitterness of Credence’s own seed, and he thought perhaps he could do it for hours upon hours, until they parted, and he was given a playful nudge towards his belt and tunic. 

“Go on then. Don’t let me keep you.”

Credence tried not to look at him, for he knew his cheeks would betray him, and he hastened to dress and slip away from the Prince’s room before anyone who did not need to know of their evening shared could see him.  
He had almost memorized the way to find the Queen’s office and he hoped she would still be there, and not already on her way to the dining hall for breakfast.   
Holding his breath, he lifted up a hand to knock on the door, and he heard a terse voice rasp, 

“Enter.”

The Queen was a beautiful woman, and once had possibly been the most bewitching creature in all the lands, but time and the sun had not been kind to her, as it had to her son. Where the Prince seemed to darken with a tan the Queen had merely burned and healed, leaving skin dry and papery if one got too close.  
Credence only knew what he’d heard his mother, a cruel gossip monger ever say about the royals, and he was rarely inclined to agree with her, except upon the fact that the Prince was far more pleasant to look at than any other royal. 

“Well? What do you have to report to me? Spit it out boy, I haven’t got all day.”

“Your majesty, the Prince does appear to be of a better mind this morning, I cannot say as to how much more receptive to your plan he will be, but-”

The Queen huffed out a sigh, and rolled her eyes at him,

“So you mean to tell me one night with you did not do the trick? He is not cured of his affliction?”

Credence frowned, at once baffled,

“His affliction? I did not his highness was ill…”

The Queen laughed, high and sharp, like a bark of a dog, Credence thought to himself, not unkindly.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, boy. It’s not normal for a man to avoid women as he does. His fondness of other men’s phalluses to be in and around him… surely he thoroughly enjoyed you? Pretty little morsel like you, no wonder you weren’t cheap. They told me you had, uh, hidden depths. Go on then. Give him another night of your services, and if he is not cured after that, then you’ll be right back in the hellhole I pulled you out of, is that clear?”

Credence was nodding, ducking his head, and attempting to bow, and back out of the room as quickly and politely as possible. He was shaking when he closed the door and made his way down the hall, intent on heading for the Prince’s sacred gardens to await his eventual arrival. The last thing he wanted was to fail the Queen, and return to the pleasure slave house.

It had been a pure stroke of luck he’d gotten the assignment in the first place, and only apparently due to his appearance, and how the Prince had a clear persuasion towards brunettes. He collapsed beneath the willow tree and fell upon the soft moss, trying to keep from crying, but his shoulders shook and his eyes stung against his wishes. Imagining the pain, the beatings and the multiple clients he’d be forced to deal with again only made it worse, beyond the fact that he could be sent away somewhere far worse, for failing the Queen, and disrupting the kingdom. So distraught was he, that he barely noticed when the sun had risen higher in the sky, and warmth kissed his bare shoulders and exposed back, as he fell into a fitful sort of rest, cheek pressed against the moss, and arms wrapped tightly around himself.

“Where’s my gift from the gods hiding?”

A voice broke through horrific dreams with angry eyes and bared teeth and Credence almost jumped, turning to lift his gaze from the ground to find a most welcome sight, the Prince himself, clad in red and gold silk, already falling to his knees beside him.

“What’s wrong sweet boy? Are you hurt?”

Credence shook his head, and sat up, still curled into himself, arms bracing on his legs, and he knew he probably looked a sight, tear reddened eyes and lips almost bloody from how he’d worried them with his teeth.

“Someone said something untoward to you…?”

He shook his head again, and the Prince clicked his tongue, almost exactly the way the Queen did when disappointed, and Credence flinched away unconsciously. “Now, you must speak to me, tell me what I can do to make you feel better, to make things right… please?”  
The Prince was begging _him?_ He wanted to help? 

“I am not hurt. But I fear it. Can you take it away from me?”

“Take what from you, dear boy? What do you need?”

The Prince’s hand was so soft on his cheek, and his eyes were so kind, it made everything all the more difficult, and Credence was certain he’d gladly be flayed alive if it meant he could spend another moment being watched with such adoration and fondness from the man.

“Treat me as you would anyone else. Don’t think of me as a water sprite, or from Mount Olympus, I am only human, as you are. But I am unworthy, so unworthy of your care.”

The Prince leaned forward, pressed his forehead to Credence’s, before tilting his head, kissing his cheek, and across to his lips,

“Don’t say that. Don’t talk that way. Ethereal creature or not, you have stolen my attentions, you may even steal my heart if you keep this up, and I could not be more grateful that you stumbled into my haven of flowers.”  


* * *

The desperation in Credence’s kisses could almost be tasted, and Graves adored it while simultaneously wondering who or what had caused it. He knew something was off, something was wrong, he’d felt strange dining with his parents and not receiving a lecture or an urging to send a missive to some princess or another, and so, had left easily and sought out his garden, eager to see his newest lover.

The boy let him press his body back to the ground, hips rutting up against Graves’ and he couldn’t help but think he’d like to take him there, out in the open but hidden, where someone could come across them, and be equally hypnotized and shocked by such a wanton display.

“I don’t have anything to open you with, do you mind if I just touch…?”

Graves was asking, but before he could finish, Credence was shaking his head, and turning his body, undoing his belt and shoving off his tunic, baring himself completely to his gaze,

“It’s okay. I’ve been taken with less and by worse. You can kiss your fingers or do it bare.”

That alone should have been one of many red flags to Graves, but he was too caught up in the moment, drowning in his sudden need for more warmth, for ultimate closeness, and so he nodded, undoing his own robes and placing a hurried kiss to the boy’s nearest shoulder, before reaching down and rubbing his weeping cockhead against the boy’s entrance, providing minimal slick to aid his thrusting inside. Credence didn’t make a sound, not even as he began to push harder, and there was definite resistance, so Graves reached around, and grasped at the boy’s cock, hoping to distract him with some small amount of pleasure.

“Please…”

The boy was saying, gasping, lips pressed against the moss beneath them, as Graves other hand braced himself on the ground, tearing the green in his haste.

“I’m so close.”

Graves was lost when he felt Credence groan and thrust himself harder into his hand, pulling his own cock inside him with the movement, and the tight hot grasp of his muscles was more than enough to trigger his climax. Credence lay still, and silent beneath him as Graves finally stilled his hips, but he could feel a warm wet slick on his palm, so he knew at least the boy had followed him, and not suffered.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, but I just couldn’t wait.”

He pulled himself out of the boy carefully, aided by his own leaking seed, and rolled the boy over to place a hurried kiss to his lips, begging his forgiveness.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

Credence was smiling, but the expression looked rather hollow, like the smiles on sculptures and paintings, having been held for decades or centuries, more than flat.

“Please, let me make it up to you. I’ll take care of you. Pay off your debts, free you from whatever is keeping you here.”

Credence was shrugging,

“It’s nothing like that. I’ve got a job, and I do it. Your family is kind and your kingdom is beautiful, I couldn’t ask for a better home.”

Graves sighed, and stroked a hand through the boy’s dark locks, wondering if the river styx could compare to the obsidian color of it.

“You don’t know my family like I do, or you wouldn’t think that of them.”

“But did they sell you into slavery to pay off their debts? I would say that no, your family is far better than you know, and you should be grateful for it.”

Credence had stilled beneath his hand, and was surely awaiting a harsh rebuke, and although Graves was more than frustrated, that the boy could not understand how little freedom and luxury he truly had, he would not be responsible for adding more pain to his life.

“Credence, please, you aren’t listening to me. I would do anything to… well, I want to keep you. I want you to want this. I will not keep you against your will. But I do not want you staying because you think it is your duty either.” Credence wasn’t looking at him anymore; he was shaking his head, and trying to pull away,

“I can’t… I just can’t.”

Graves put his hand to the boy’s cheek, forcing him to meet his gaze,

“What is it? Please. Tell me what I can do.”

Credence’s dark lashes were wet with tears, and he was shaking his head again.

“Please, you don’t, you can’t, I’m only supposed to be with you to make you do what they want…”

Graves felt a spear of ice shoot through his veins, and still he held the boy, tender as he could,

“What are you talking about?”

His voice was a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loud might frighten Credence even more. He was crying freely now, and he looked completely helpless and terrified, but thankfully, not of Graves himself. “I didn’t find you by accident…”

* * *

  
  
Credence couldn’t tell him, he couldn’t, but he wanted to, so desperately. He wanted the truth out, and he half hoped the Prince would kill him, or order his death for such a betrayal.   
Maybe he would drown him right there in the pond, inches from where they’d last coupled. 

“What are you saying?”

Credence’s lip trembled, as his voice came out in a strangled gasp,

“It’s not real. None of this.”

“But you’re like no one I’ve ever met. I’d never seen you before. How could you have just appeared here, if not from Zeus, then how?”

The Prince was smiling, sadly, as if still trying to convince himself.  
Credence sighed, and tried to wrench himself away, out of the man’s arms, but he wasn’t quite strong enough, and his heart wasn’t in it. Though it had not begun that way, in the end, he’d found himself caring about the Prince. 

“Your mother hired me. She pulled me out of hell itself and sent me to seduce you. I’m meant to distract you, to make you more agreeable to her demands. If I fail, I’ll have to go back, and be treated worse. I may die. I couldn’t bear that. I would rather… you killed me.”

He blinked once, twice, letting tears fall in cold paths down his cheeks, before looking up to meet the wounded gaze of the Prince, hoping his plea did not fall on deaf ears. “She did this?”  
The Prince was barely making a sound, had Credence not been so close, he’d have never heard the murmured words, and he nodded. 

“I had no idea she could be so cruel… to use someone like you… to twist a shade of Apollo down to do Hades’ bidding.”

There was a new fire of fury in the Prince’s eyes, and Credence let his own fall shut, and turned his face away, but bared his neck. It would be easy, just the properly placed hand, and a tight squeeze, and it would all be over. “Truly, I am sorry.”  
Credence found himself saying, low, like a prayer, and the Prince moved, but instead of granting his wish, ending it, he pulled him closer, embraced him tightly, and pressed a heated kiss to the side of his neck, before whispering, 

“I do not blame you. You had little choice in the matter. My mother’s schemes are entirely her own. I am a man of my word. You shall be free, and she will be punished for this.”

Credence could scarcely believe it, and when he opened his eyes, the Prince was already pulling him to his feet, tugging him up close enough for another kiss, that time a fervent press of lips and a hint of tongue.

“Go to my room, and I shall return to you when it is safe.”  
Credence found himself nodding and pulling on his tunic as fast as his shaky hands would allow, and he caught the hint of a smile and a wink before the Prince was gone, and then he was running, praying he wouldn’t meet anyone who knew him, or could report him to the Queen, as he hurried to the Prince’s chambers. 

* * *

  
  
“Mother.” 

Graves glared over the lunch table at her, and she smiled back at him, nonplussed,

“Yes dearest Alexander, what is it?”

“Have you found me a wife yet?”

Delay, delay and avert her expectations, he was thinking to himself, and he could see the flash of surprise as it made its way over her face.

“Why yes, there’s a very promising lead in Persia. Someone worthy of you, and very beautiful, if the stories are true.”

“Good, you know how I adore beauty. I hope she is dark of hair and fair of skin.”

The Queen looked a bit annoyed suddenly,

“She is dark of skin and dark of hair. Come now, you cannot be so picky.”

“Of course. I apologize. Now, I suppose all the arrangements will be made? The wedding can be next week.”  
His mother was nodding along, and suggested they toast to it, a smile once again overtaking her face, and Graves smirked. “Indeed. Let us try this new berry wine I have heard so much about. Imported from vineyards right by the sea.” 

He snapped his fingers and called for a servant to bring over two glasses, which he could pour the wine into, and have one sent down to his mother.

Her glass had another berry added. The holly from the edges of the garden he adored so much, and it would not be pleasant for her, not at all. She deserved to suffer, as he had under her thumb. Graves lifted his glass as she did hers, and granted her one final smile, before draining his own, and ensuring she did the same.  
The golden goblet hit the floor with a loud clank, and he tried to be as concerned as the servants did, observing her unconscious form fall from her chair. 

“Inform the king, my mother has had a heart attack, send for a doctor.”

By the time they arrived, it would be far too late. Graves left her corpse in the capable hands of her handmaidens and took his leave, headed to his room where he knew his real love awaited.  
The wedding did indeed take place, and he was amicably married to the princess of Persia, but still with Credence at his side, as his best man. When the Princess did not receive a missive or a summons on the wedding night, she did not protest, as she’d brought many scrolls with her, and even insisted on being left alone should her new husband send for her.   
She was just as interested in his romantic attentions as he was in her. Not at all.   
The marriage of convenience maintained, even through the great Wars, and as Alexander truly became Great, he did so with his true love at his side, and with his own Queen there also. 

* * *

  
  
  
**END**

 

**Author's Note:**

> whomp. and i totally lied and never put in what i said i would and im sorry but i got drunk and it just wouldn't fit ANYWHERE without making it super angsty and i couldnt do that to credence im sorry.  
> the hannibal AU or the fright night AU tho....hmmmmm >.>


End file.
